A night at the opera with Bob turned into espresso, which turned into a long walk through the arts district. Lisa's cheeks ached with laughter.

"I can't remember the last time I was out this late," she confided.

"Come again?"

"I said, I'm not usually out this late!"

"Sorry, didn't catch that."

Bob undid his tie and made a convincing show of flossing his brain through his ears.

"Try now."

Lisa laughed again, and Bob gave her a small, relieved smile. They had wandered into a sculpture park, and Lisa sat on one of the benches as her giggles subsided.

"Bob, this is going to sound insane, but I can't keep it to myself another minute." She drew a deep breath. "I have a huge crush on you."

Bob blinked. "A crush?"

Lisa nodded. Bob was momentarily stunned, then joined her on the bench.

"It doesn't bother you that I've made multiple attempts to kill you and your brother?"

She swallowed. "I don't think you're a killer. Maybe you never were."

Bob's eyes bored into hers. "Or that I'm old enough to be your father?"

She didn't flinch. "The Buddha teaches that the soul is ageless."

"Or that I'm still legally married to-"

"If you don't want me, just say so."

Bob fell silent.

"That would be easier," he considered. "but it isn't true."

Lisa brightened with excitement, but Bob's cloudiness couldn't be reached. She slid her hand into his. They were barely touching, and at first, he didn't react. But just as she decided to pull away, his fingers curled to rest against hers.

"Why, if it isn't my oldest enemy, with... Sideshow Bob?!"

Lisa and Bob turned.

"Bart!" Lisa exclaimed, startled. "What are you doing at the sculpture park at two in the morning?"

Bart threw his welding torch and malt liquor bottle behind some bushes and rounded on them suspiciously.

"The better question is, what are you two doing at the sculpture park at two in the morning?"

He stared pointedly at their handholding. Bob pulled away in a gesture of surrender. "It's all perfectly innocent."

"Guilty says what?"

"What? Damn it!"

Bart cracked up. "Oh, Bob. You'll never defeat me. But seriously, stay the hell away from my sister."

Lisa rolled her eyes and pulled Bart aside.

"You know how you act like you're so cool all the time? Well, here's another great opportunity to act cool!"

Bart groaned. "Lise, you have, without a doubt, the worst taste in men. Milhouse, Nelson, Gil-"

"I helped Gil Gunderson research representing himself in court as a friend," Lisa mentioned sharply.

"-but Sideshow Bob? How can you trust him? Just look at that maniac!"

The Simpson kids glanced back at Bob, who was peacefully observing a moth that had landed on a frond of his hair. He smiled and waved. Lisa waved back until Bart smacked her arm.

"Hey!"

"Knock that off. I forbid you from seeing him!"

Lisa scoffed. "As if! But you are going to keep your mouth shut about this, especially around Mom and Dad, because... let's see, which card to play? Your fake drug dealer?"

"Flew the coop."

"Fighting roosters?"

"Flushed."

She scrutinized him for weakness, but he was airtight.

"Forget it, sister, you got nothing on me."

Lisa recalled the welding torch she had seen just moments ago.

"I won't reveal who vandalized the art tonight."

Lisa offered her brother a smile, serene in victory. Bart narrowed his eyes.

"They're your guts, get 'em slashed if you want. But when you turn up missing I'm telling the cops where they can find your corpse."

Lisa inhaled an argument, and let it go on the exhale. "Fine."

"Fine!"

Bart flipped her the bird, snatched his booze and ambled off into the shadows.

"An evening with the Simpsons. What a treat!" Bob said drily, standing as Lisa returned. She sighed.

" 'Evening,' is polite for 'difficult encounter,' but thanks for the encouragement."

Her effortless disappointment caught Bob by surprise, and he admired the heart kept on her sleeve.

"Less difficult than you may imagine. Can I take you home?"

Bob shyly offered Lisa his arm, and enjoyed the expression on her face as she took it, and the feeling of her frustration evaporating to calm.